The Last Battlefield
by Noel Malfoy
Summary: The Second War had come- and gone. Draco Malfoy is now in Dumbledore's Army. Voldemort is finally gone, civilization is shattered, and the world is in ruins. Draco Malfoy and all those who survived the the Second War are left to rebuild everything...
1. The Profiles

I stood, looking over the land that was to one day be called "The Last Battlefield." At the time, I had no idea what was to become of me, or the rest of the human race for that matter. Finally, the Second War had come- and gone, leaving millions dead, and millions of others in worse states of existence. There was no use of reflecting back- before the war- during the war- none of that mattered anymore. This was a time of rebirth and renewal. All that mattered was that I had shifted to the side fighting against Voldemort and ultimately led Dumbledore's Army to victory; however, 'twas at great cost. Among the dead were Lucius Malfoy, Fudge, Severus Snape, and most unfortunately, Albus Dumbledore. With Dumbledore gone, Minerva McGonagall was left as head of the Army- and the post-war world. It was up to her to rebuild civilization, as it were. Close to McGonagall in rank was the famous Harry Potter, of course.  
  
The Second War had endured for 10 years, with the battling never ceasing. In the ninth year, Voldemort, with the aid of the Dementors, the Trolls, and millions of humans, managed to reduce the world's population by billions by means of the most intense Dark Magic ever conjured thus far in history. The final battle of the Second War brought nearly every living human to the same place. That place was what was left of a city called London. By then in ruins, the human race fought against each other for 3 weeks at this historic site. The wizard world and the muggle world had merged, the muggles split between Voldemort's Army and Dumbledore's Army. Both sides knew this would be the deciding battle. Both sides new this was finally the end of the Second War.  
  
Victory seemed far for Dumbledore's Army. Desperate to change the odds, I led all of the Army in one last, united effort to defeat Voldemort. I succeeded. That night, the Army killed and imprisoned everyone on Voldemort's side, and Harry Potter personally killed the Dark Lord himself. With the seemingly immortal Voldemort dead, the world lay in charred and crumbled pieces, waiting to be rebuilt from scratch.  
  
I scanned the horizon, watching fellow humans search for survivors amongst the dry blood and mounds of cold, rotting corpses. It was a depressing site indeed, despite everything uplifting it promised. The silence was unnerving. Since the last battle had begun, there were always people fighting, yelling, screaming, and crying. Now neither the crickets nor the birds had any song to sing. I closed my eyes as the sun peaked over the distant mountains. Morning had come. It was time to get moving. I turned and headed to the main tent.  
  
"McGonagall," I said, entering the tent and nodding my head.  
  
"Mr. Malfoy, come," Minerva ordered. She sat alone at a small table.  
  
I stood before her. She was silent for a minute, staring at me. Then she stood, took some papers off her desk, and handed them to me. She circled around her desk and came to stand directly in front of me, whilst I glanced over the papers.  
  
After a moment I said, "What are these?"  
  
"A list," McGonagall replied.  
  
"Of?"  
  
"Of all the people you are to locate," she said, tapping the papers. "These are all the people that went missing immediately following Voldemort's death. It could be merely coincidence...or not. Either way, each of these persons must be accounted for."  
  
I read briefly over the list once again. "I don't know who half these people are."  
  
"So I presumed. Profiles of each individual are being compiled as we speak. They should be ready come midday."  
  
"This is a lot of people to locate on my own. They could be anywhere in the world."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Well? Why isn't somebody else on the assignment with me? What about Weasley or Granger or Longbottom even?" I asked, agitated.  
  
"We are trying to rebuild an entire world, Malfoy. Your mission is one of hundreds- even thousands- that need to be carried out. As it is, Mr. Weasley is far too wounded to be of any service at this point, and Ms. Granger and Mr. Longbottom are tending and questioning the wounded," McGonagall explained in a matter-of-fact sort manner.  
  
"Questioning the wounded? That seems kind of- rude."  
  
"Well, not all of Voldemort's followers were slaughtered. Those with the ability to talk might have valuable information."  
  
I shrugged and rattled the papers in my hand.  
  
"Right," McGonagall said, getting back on topic. "This list is to be your life. Voldemort might be gone, but his threat is still very much alive. There could very well be someone who was chosen to replace Voldemort if he died."  
  
"Yes, Minerva, I understand the importance of this."  
  
"Good. Memorize the list. Know the profiles well. Now, why don't you get a few hours of sleep? You'll be woken once the profiles are prepared."  
  
"Okay," I said, nodding slightly and showing myself out of the tent.  
  
Once I was back in my private tent, I reviewed the list. "Ginny Weasley?" I said to myself.  
  
"What about her?" someone asked, entering my tent.  
  
"Potter. Don't you knock?"  
  
"I doubt you'd notice if I knocked on a cloth tent," Harry said.  
  
I scowled at him. "Are you here for any particular reason then?"  
  
"McGonagall told me briefly of your mission. I was curious as to who was on the list."  
  
"I'm not sure you're authorized to see it." I pushed the list behind me.  
  
"I'm quite sure that I am, Malfoy. Now, let me see it."  
  
"Not even a 'please'? Aren't you impolite."  
  
"Fine. Have it your way, Draco. I've got more important things to attend to anyway," Harry said, stomping from my tent. How I enjoyed taunting him. Just because we were on the same side, didn't mean I liked him any more than before.  
  
Exhausted, I blew out my candle and tried to get some sleep. The last thing on my mind before I went finally fell asleep was Ginny Weasley and why she disappeared right after Voldemort was killed. 


	2. The Tavern

"Mr. Malfoy. McGonagall wants to see you."  
  
"Wha? Oh, ok," I grumbled. Slowly, I stood and attempted to tidy myself up a bit. A Malfoy must always look better than everyone else. "Does that make me shallow?" I asked myself.  
  
I finally stumbled into the main tent, looked McGonagall in the eye, and said, "Do you really expect me to be able to efficiently work on one hour's sleep?"  
  
McGonagall smiled. "Desperate times call for desperate measures, Draco. Now, the profiles are done. That's them," she said pointed to a closed box on the ground.  
  
"Grand! There are a lot them aren't there?" I lifted the box, and, sadly enough, had slight difficulty doing so.  
  
McGonagall laughed slightly, and looked down at her shoes. She looked much older; the War had taken its toll on her; however, it was easy to see the vitality and drive still contained with in spirit. It reminded me to Dumbledore. Then again, he died.  
  
I shrugged and repositioned the box in my arms.  
  
"Everything alright, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall questioned.  
  
"Yes. Just thinking that optimism is key during times like these, yet it is never plentiful enough," I made up, not wanting to tell her what I was really thinking.  
  
"Indeed, Draco," she sighed. "Now you best be on your way. You've got many people to locate."  
  
"I'm starting now? Right now?"  
  
"Yes, we cannot waste any time."  
  
"But- I- it- fine. Should I owl when I have information? Or floo?"  
  
"Which ever seems safer at the time. I trust your judgment."  
  
"Why?" I asked. "Why do you think you can trust me? What makes you believe that I won't leave with this list and use it against you?"  
  
"I don't know. Hope, perhaps. The knowledge that you went against Voldemort by your own choice, and I highly doubt you'll go back. Unless, of course, this is some master scheme of yours- is it?"  
  
"If it was, do you think I'd tell you?"  
  
"Now, Draco, you know very well that I cannot read your mind and tell you what you would say," McGonagall retorted.  
  
I cocked an eyebrow at her and gave her my trademark smirk. Then, once again shifting the box, I turned to leave.  
  
"Good luck, Draco," McGonagall called.  
  
"I don't need it," I said over my shoulder.  
  
Within a matter of minutes the main tent and the entire camp was a good distance behind me. Thoroughly annoyed by the box of profiles, I decided to shrink it. I fished my wand out of my coat pocket and held it between my teeth, shuffling through the profiles. Finally, I found one that said the person had been most recently spotted on the outskirts of London (or rather what once was London). I rolled up the piece of paper and stuck in my pocket, removed my wand from my mouth, and cast a spell to shrink the box. After some rearranging, the shrunken box was safely in my pocket along with my wand, and the single profile was in my hand.  
  
I looked down at the name on the profile. "Ginny Weasley? Oh, of all the bloody profiles I had to pick from, I had to pick hers! Brilliant. Bloody brilliant!" I yelled at no one. Then I stomped my feet once or twice, groaned, and took off walking.  
  
Twenty minutes of walking brought me to my destination. London was a mess. Collapsed buildings, rubble everywhere, and it was eerily deserted and silent. I realized I was holding my breath, so I let it out slowly, my shoes crunching and cracking on the debris as I walked.  
  
The sun was shining bright for the first time in days. Of course, I'm not one to stop and admire. Who stops to admire the sun? I kept strolling.  
  
Then, in the distance, I spotted a building that wasn't demolished or on the verge of collapsing. As I got closer, I saw a little sign on the door. "Teacup Tavern: food, shelter, and care," it read. I hadn't eaten breakfast, and this seemed decent enough to eat at. So I went in.  
  
"Hello. Can I help you?" a middle-aged woman croaked.  
  
"Yes," I replied. "I would like something to eat."  
  
"Ok-" she began, but I interrupted.  
  
"But first- I'm looking for someone. A woman by the name of Ginny-"  
  
"Spelled G-i-n-n-y?" she asked.  
  
"Yes. Do you know her?"  
  
"She's working here. Hold on. I'll get her," the lady said. She walked a few feet to a door and opened it just enough to stick her head in. "Ginny! There's a heck of a handsome man here to see you!"  
  
I rolled my eyes and groaned to myself. I wanted to hit the woman with the croaking voice.  
  
"What are you talking about, Maribelle?" A young girl came gliding through the door. She was wearing a hideous brown, patched dress and drying her hands on her stained white apron. Her face was gorgeous except for the splotches of dirt. She had wide, confused chocolate brown eyes, pale skin, chapped lips, and cheeks flushed pink.  
  
She blinked a few times when she saw me. Then she shook her head and said, "I'm sorry. Do I know you, sir?"  
  
"Yes and no."  
  
"What kind of answer is that?"  
  
"Are you Ginny?" I asked.  
  
"Yes. Why?"  
  
"I must speak with you," I insisted.  
  
"He fancies you!" Maribelle whispered too loudly.  
  
I cleared my throat. "Could we go- outside maybe?"  
  
"OK," Ginny replied, glaring at Maribelle and punching her lightly.  
  
She followed me out the front entrance, and, once outside, I turned to face her.  
  
"Ginny Weasley," I said.  
  
"It's been quite a while- Draco," she responded with a neutral face.  
  
"Too long, perhaps. Tell me, why are you here? Working in this-place?"  
  
"I wanted to help out, and this," she said, gesturing towards the tavern, "seemed like the right thing to do."  
  
I nodded. "And why did you leave and come here so quickly after Voldemort's death?"  
  
Ginny hesitated slightly before answering. "Well," she said, taking a deep breath, "I figured since the fighting was over, I could no longer be of service there, so I left."  
  
"Service to whom?" I quickly questioned.  
  
"You have to ask that question of me?"  
  
"I don't know you, Ginny. What makes you think we have some kind of relationship with each other?"  
  
"I- well, we do have a relationship. Mind you, it's not the most pleasant."  
  
"You're avoiding the question, Ginny."  
  
"You're paranoid, Draco. I'm no more on Voldemort's side than you are!" she retorted.  
  
I shook my head. "I don't like these answers I am getting. Why don't you accompany me on my journey?"  
  
"Where are you going?" she asked.  
  
"You're coming," I growled at her. "Now, get anything you might need. We should also pack some food, in case we get stranded somewhere."  
  
"Malfoy!" Ginny yelled, "I'm not simply packing up and shipping off with you! I have obligations here, you know!"  
  
I grabbed her arm and pulled her close to me. "Get. Your. Things," I whispered, shoving her back towards the door.  
  
Ginny flipped her hair out of her face and sighed angrily. Then she stomped inside. I followed, saying to myself, "This trip will be better- more fun- with Ginny Weasley coming along." I laughed under my breath. I watched her gather up some food and put some clothing in a small bag. She paused every now and then to give me an ominous stare. "Better indeed," I whispered under my breath, giving her the trademark smirk. 


	3. The Youngest Weasley

Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing so far! I went a little weird at the end of this chapter, so please tell me what you think!! Thanks and enjoy!!  
  
~~Noel~~  
  
Two hours after I had 'asked' Ginny to come with me, she was still not warming up to me. She had packed a small bag for herself and some food for us both.  
  
When she shoved the food into my hands, I asked, "You ready?"  
  
"No," she said, brushing past me. I walked close behind her, and after we'd walked a little ways, she turned and faced me.  
  
"I'm not going," Ginny announced to me.  
  
"Oh really?" I questioned, trying not to smile at her lack of brains. She could not win an argument with a Malfoy. No one could.  
  
"No. I have no reason nor desire to come with you."  
  
"Oh really?" I responded again. She was quite cute when she was angry.  
  
She stared at me for a moment. Then she opened her mouth, only to close it again. I chuckled quietly, but she heard me just the same.  
  
"And what is so funny?" she asked, her eyes bearing into mine. Can't say I didn't like it...  
  
"You," I replied simply.  
  
"Me? I'm sorry, but I don't recall telling a joke."  
  
"Feisty," I commented.  
  
"Excuse me? How dare you!" she yelled.  
  
"Oh yes, I forgot about the Weasley short temper."  
  
That was when she slapped me. If her intention was to shut me up, then her method was quite effective because she hit me square on the jaw, and I couldn't get it to move afterwards.  
  
It took me 30 seconds or so to recover, but when I did, I was furious. I grabbed both of Ginny's arms with both of mine, and pulled her so close our noses were almost touching.  
  
"Wrong move, Weasley. I don't tolerate bitch slaps well at all!" I yelled, violently shaking her. "You just made a big mistake!"  
  
I threw her onto the ground, retrieved my wand, and squatted over her. Clasping her neck with one firm hand, I pointed my wand directly at her heart. She looked extremely frightened with her eyes wide and her skin ghost white.  
  
I was pleased with the scare I had given her, yet somehow, I couldn't bring myself to harm her any further. She deserved a strong punishment, but I just couldn't give it to her. Why not? I didn't know. Lost in my confused thoughts, I loosened my grip on her neck- just enough so she could wriggle free and scuttle backwards.  
  
She stood and pointed her own wand at me. I then stood as well.  
  
"Ginny, Ginny, Ginny, do you honestly think you stand a chance in a duel against me?" I asked.  
  
"I honestly do. Draco, your head might be extraordinarily large, but your ability isn't."  
  
My eyes widened at this insult, but I quickly regained my composure. "Petty insults will get you no where," I retorted.  
  
"And have you told yourself that?"  
  
"Why weren't you this feisty when we were in school? I might have grown to fancy you."  
  
"Ugh," she said, giving me a repulsive look. "That's disgusting."  
  
"Yes. Yes, I suppose it is. You are a Weasley."  
  
"You are a Malfoy," she added. Then she let out a little giggle.  
  
"What?" I asked.  
  
"We're acting like we did in school. One would think we'd have grown up by now."  
  
I shrugged. "Old habits die hard."  
  
To this Ginny sincerely laughed- a beautiful smile on her face. I found myself smiling too. Realizing this, I quickly got rid of my smile and replaced it with the trademark smirk.  
  
"You're such a git," Ginny said, grinning.  
  
"What can I say? It's part of the charm," I joked.  
  
I let the moment linger for a short time before I realized what it was- flirting with a Weasley! How could I!? I wanted to hurt myself so bad for doing such a thing that my arm actually moved towards my face. I restrained it with my other hand.  
  
"We've got a lot of ground to cover. I'd like to be a good distance away from London before nightfall," I said much harsher than before.  
  
Ginny's frowned and shook her head. "I'm not going, Draco."  
  
I groaned, annoyed with the stubborn girl. "Don't put up a fight, Ginny. I've spared you once, but I will not do it again."  
  
Ginny glanced around her. She closed her eyes, and as she did, her breath quickened. It got faster, and she began to twitch a little. She tilted her head upwards- eyes still closed- and began muttering something in a strange language.  
  
My eyes grew wide. I knew that language. I knew exactly what she was doing. My heart began to beat madly, and my mind raced uncontrollably in confusion. It couldn't be. There's no way Ginny was involved with Voldemort's Army! But Ginny was doing what Draco had done countless times- communicating with a powerful and high-ranking follower of Voldemort.  
  
I hadn't heard that language in over a year, and I couldn't make out what she was saying. Ginny's breathing was slowing. Soon she would return to a normal state of consciousness, and who knew what she would do to me then. I was running out of time fast. Obviously, Voldemort's followers would be after me because of my abandonment, so why hadn't I been more cautious? Maybe it wasn't Ginny, but a Bogart or something instead. My mind was going crazy with ideas that made no sense, but then Ginny interrupted my thoughts.  
  
Her heavy breathing had stopped entirely. Her head fell forward, and her eyes snapped suddenly open. She stared at me for a second, her body rigid and still, no breath sounds coming from her. Then she collapsed onto the ground, and I stood in udder perplexity.  
  
I didn't know whether I should leave her or not. Would Voldemort's Army be on its way now? For me? What had Ginny told them before she collapsed? I had so many questions and no one to answer them.  
  
Should I take a chance at contacting McGonagall? I thought. I could send up sparks. Surely there are watchmen back at camp who would see them and come. But what if someone else saw?  
  
I couldn't risk giving away my position, assuming it wasn't already given away by Ginny, so I lifted Ginny's limp body into my arms and took off as fast as I could. 


	4. Fall

The sun was slowly sinking into oblivion, brilliant shades of yellow, orange, and pink trailing close behind. I sat on the mountainside, willing the sun to move faster. Night couldn't come soon enough. I don't know why I was so anxious and hurried, it's not like I was going to be able to sleep. I knew it was going to be just like it was in the War; sleep was going to become a privilege that I would rarely get. Days would be spent on the move, and nights would be spent on the watch.

Ginny was still unconscious. She looked dead, lying in the grass a few feet from me. I sighed as I watched her, thinking about the battlefield and all the bodies lying truly lifeless on it, and not just temporarily still. I felt frustrated. I didn't know what to do. My job wasn't supposed to start like this. How come the first person I locate from the _stupid_ list has to be the one on Voldemort's side? And Ginny Weasley, of all people? I groaned as I stood up and brushed the dead grass off me.

Then it hit me suddenly- like an impulse. I could run, right now. While Ginny laid there, helpless, I could run. Or better yet, I could _kill _her and _then_ run. As soon as I caught a glimpse of her face, however, I knew I would never be able to bring myself to kill her. Not now. Not until I got to the bottom of this.

"For now," I said to myself, "I'll let you be. You go back to your Voldemort, and I'll go on with my stupid assignment. Then, someday soon, I'll figure you out, Ginny Weasley." And with that, I began walking into the sunset.

It got dark very soon. I was still in the same flat valley I left Ginny in. Here it would be easy to spot me, so I had no choice but to continue on through the night. The valley seemed to stretch on for eternity. I knew I was to come to a river soon enough, and from there I would follow the river to Brooksbury. That's where I was headed because three of the people on the profiles were last spotted here: Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, and Steven Woodhall. The first two names sounded familiar, but I wasn't sure.

Depressingly enough, Brooksbury was another week's worth of walking away. My chances of reaching the small town and those three runaways still being there were quite low. Even worse was the fact that I couldn't get Ginny off my mind. Fall was almost here, and the leaves were abandoning their spring greens for fiercer fall colors. The red leaves annoyed me particularly, for they reminded me of Ginny's silky hair and how it had always looked perfectly tousled, as if she styled it that way. In fact, the whole of the season fall reminded me of Ginny- not only her appearance, but also her fiery personality. I hated myself for falling for the enemy, but I hated myself even more for falling for a Weasley. Father would not be pleased with me. Not that I cared what Father thought anymore, mind you.

I walked on through the rest of the night and half the next day before I finally reached the river. By then I could barely keep my eyes awake. Luckily, on the opposite side of the river was forest. I jumped across a few rocks to the other side, found a dense cluster of trees and bushes, and fell into a deep sleep immediately.


End file.
